The group is making its waves in the Bayou City, no less. And the sextet is finding that the plains-and-bayou region - though not a surfing mecca of Californian or Hawaiian proportions - likes the musicians' breezy, informal combination of endless summer, sand and sincere Christianity.

The songs are sacred and surf-oriented, with such titles as "Surfin With the Savior, Surfer Girls, California Christmas, Bible Beach" (to music by Chuck Berry) and "Sunday School Dropout." The in-between patter between numbers at their concerts, generally presented in churches, is soft-sell evangelical Christianity, with testimonies from the six earnest young women behind their microphones and guitars.

"I used to be "sooo" dumb and "sooo" judgmental of other people," lead singer Nan Salinas, 25, told listeners at a recent concert. "Jesus made me realize how ugly that was."

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Instead of blunting the Gospel, the ever-popular, never-dying appeal of surf music seems to disarm people enough to listen to an old story set to Beach Boys-style music.

"God uses the foolish things of the world to confound the wise,"

said Nan, who is also the group's songwriter. Originally intending to write standard rock 'n' roll, all she could come up with was surf music.

"Well," she said, "the songs may be silly, but the message isn't silly. We've been well-received. I've never had anyone not liking us."

"Once we start talking, people realize we are learned in the Word," said Nan's sister, Elizabeth, 18, who plays the drums. "When they hear of a female Christian band, people think that's kind of ding-y."

Another truth has surfaced as Surfside Witness as developed.

Concerning music styles, beach is harder than Bach, says Nancy, who defines surf music as a blending of harmonies with at least four parts, a melodic lead and a falsetto lead.

Once it's all worked out, however, Surfside Witness has a sound all their own. They're not Amy Grant or Sandi Patti (two well-known evangelical female Christian vocalists), but the women know their beach background. Old surf movies and television shows are stored at home on videocassettes. Their favorites are old Gidget reruns. They've memorized the winners of the old surf classic competitions and the names of great Hawaiian surfers.

The band was started by Nancy, Elizabeth and their sister Mona, 20, who have been singing since their California childhood. Their first venture into a recording studio was 12 years ago when their mother, Ann Salinas, recorded a solo gospel album in Fresno.

The Salinas children, eight of them in all, grew up in the Escondido Valley north of San Diego and dedicated their lives to Christ in their late teens. The family relocated to Houston, where Ann and her husband, Ernest Salinas, are pastors of the non-denominational West End Community Church just east of Memorial Park.

About four years ago, the sisters formed a surf band, chiefly because nothing like what they had in mind existed. Nan, who was trained at the Houston Conservatory of Music, was the chief songwriter.

Three other members - Rebecca Steele, 19; Kim Littlejohn, 19; and Sara Colburn, 19 - have since joined. Kim is a student at a local college and the other five women work.

The result of their labors is more than a sanctified rendition of " Bikini Beach," Pajama Party or "Where the Boys Are." All of the performers are born-again Christians who use anecdotes from the youth culture during performances. They make jokes about rock groups such as Motley Crue, then offer to talk or pray with concertgoers after the music ends.

But do they surf? The three sisters occasionally do, and Nancy's board is a florescent yellow with "Jesus Saves" painted on it in hot-pink lettering.

Group weds surfin', Christian sentiments

Despite the casual, fun-loving nature of surf songs, the band members are very conservative young women who will give up a secular job if it means working on a Sunday and rarely date because of calls on their ministry.

But during performances, they are laid back, sometimes poking fun at each other in between numbers, before whirling off into another number in their breathless, girlish sopranos.

"We used to not be Christians, and we know what's out there,"

said Nan. "And we know there's nothing out there. We try to communicate (that) it's fun to be a Christian; it's not a drag or just for older people or little kids in Sunday school."